Campfire
by spookisapuppy
Summary: This is another multi-author fic, but I've changed the rules a little bit this time around. :P
1. Intruder by Spookisapuppy

**Intruder**

by

Spookisapuppy

* * *

Gilan walked up the steps of his porch and was about to walk through the open door when he stopped. _Why was his door open? _Gilan froze, listening for any sound that might indicate where the intruder was. Hearing nothing, he drew his saxe knife and stepped cautiously through the doorway. He did a quick scan of the front room. Seeing no one, he moved on to the kitchen. His feet didn't make a sound on the wooden floorboards.

The sight that greeted him in the little kitchen stopped him in his tracks. There was Halt, his old mentor, with his feet kicked up on the table, sipping a cup of coffee. "Hullo Gilan. I was wondering when you'd show up," Halt said calmly, as though this was nothing out of the ordinary.

Gilan jammed the saxe knife back into its scabbard. "Halt, how did you get in my house?"

Halt rose one eyebrow at his former apprentice. "Really Gilan? You're asking _me_ that question?"

"Then here's a new question. Why did you pick my lock?"

"Well, you weren't here. Did you expect me to wait outside?"

"You could have come and found me," Gilan suggested.

Halt _hrmph_ed as he removed his booted feet from Gilan's table. "Oh, yes, that's a wonderful choice. Go tramping round Meric looking for my apprentice or stay here in relative comfort and let the apprentice come to me. Difficult decision, that."

"Point taken. But why'd you leave my door open?"

"Keeps you on your toes." Gilan sighed and sat down at the table with Halt.

"Well, it's good to see you, anyway. Got any more coffee for me?"

"Oh, about that... It's entirely within the realm of possibility that your coffee has disappeared. Temporarily."

"How long is temporarily?" Gilan asked, with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Ah," Halt set down his now empty mug, "I would say that it's until you go and buy some more."

"I was afraid of that. Why don't you come with me and we'll go get some?" Gilan asked as he stood from his chair.

"No time like the present, eh?"

"Right. And I really need some coffee."

"You know, you're addicted to the stuff," Halt said as he walked out of the door behind Gilan.

"Yes, well, it's your fault," Gilan said as he locked the door. For whatever good that would do, he thought.

"My fault?" Halt said, feigning surprise. "How is it my fault?"

"You're the one that got me hooked on it," Gilan said as they started walking. Blaze nickered a greeting as they came around to the small stable next to the house.. "Where'd you hide Abelard that I can't see him?"

"He's out in the trees. I wanted to surprise you." Halt whistled and a shaggy little horse came into view. Abelard was without his saddle and other tack. Halt opened the gate to the little paddock and let Abelard in. "I don't think we need to ride to the castle. It's not that far."

"Alright," Gilan agreed. After all, he had just brushed Blaze down. He felt no desire to do so again. They walked in a companionable silence for a few moments, before Gilan thought to ask the obvious question. "So Halt, what brings you all the way to Meric?"

"Ah, I thought you'd never ask," Halt said with a smile, "An interesting story, this..."


	2. A Mission in Meric by Elfpen

**A Mission in Meric**

By

Elfpen

* * *

_They walked in a companionable silence for a few moments, before Gilan thought to ask the obvious question. "So Halt, what brings you all the way to Meric?"_

_"Ah, I thought you'd never ask," Halt said with a smile, "An interesting story, this..."

* * *

_

"First off, it's not Meric that I came here for. It's you."

"Aw, Halt, I'm touched." Gilan smiled over at his mentor.

"Don't flatter yourself. I need your house and your help."

Gilan's smile turned to a confused frown. "…My house? Why would you need my house?"

"To stay in, of course."

"I know, but… Why?"

"I'm going to be here for a while on a… mission."

"A mission? What kind of – Wait a minute - If you're here, who's at Redmont?" Gilan stopped walking and looked expectantly at Halt, almost dreading his answer.

Halt turned towards his former student. "Will, of course." He said, as if it were obvious. "Who else would be there?"

Gilan gaped at him. "You left your _apprentice _in charge of the _whole darned fief? _Namely, the second largest fief in the entire country? Have you gone mad, Halt?"

Halt looked at him with a hurt look. "That's a bit harsh, don't you think, Gilan? Will is a perfectly capable young man. Besides, he'll be graduating next year. He needs some field experience. As for my mission… It's of a more personal matter."

Still reeling from the revelation that a nineteen-year-old was running Redmont, Gilan had to shake himself before inquiring further. "And just what does this 'mission' involve that consists of such a personal matter?"

"Well, I suppose that's it's not strictly personal. There was a ring of higher-class criminals floating about the southern border of Redmont for some time, and I've been trying to nab them for years, but they cover their tracks well. Unfortunately, neither they nor the Baron much appreciated it when I attempted to solve the matter entirely by tossing the head of the family out a window." Halt grumbled out the last bit in rueful remembrance. As they spoke, the two rangers began walking towards town again.

" 'The head of the family'? What, so it's a family of thugs?"

"Not thugs, exactly. They're very high-class, as I said. The kind of slimy, manipulative, dark-hearted scum you find perched up in luxury and conning the masses for years before they're caught. But yes, it's a family business."

"And what is their 'business'?"

"Slave trafficking."

"That's bloody horrible! What kind of people are these?"

"Like I said, they're scumbags; the lot of them. They earn a generous amount of money providing the lowest of the low with whatever slave power they want. After all, robbers can certainly do more robbing when they don't have to stay home and wash the dishes. It's popular among bandit rings to buy slaves for miscellaneous purposes and entertainment." Halt explained.

"And they're in Redmont, you said?"

"They were. Unfortunately, as soon as I got wind of their trail and came too close for comfort, they fled. It's taken me months to get the trail back, and it's led me here: to Meric."

"Why did it take so long to find them?"

"For one, they cover their tracks very neatly. Their cover identity is that of a wealthy mercantile family. Their prolonged absences form their manor is passed off as excursions to Celtica, Hibernia, and the like for trading endeavors. However, their wealth, their 'trips' away from home, and everything else can be traced to their slave trading business."

"And how do you know this?" Gilan had to ask.

"A good long time of observation and more than one escapee slave telling the Baron and I stories of abduction and subsequent auctioning off to the highest bidder." Halt answered.

"And that wasn't enough to bag them completely?"

"No. Unfortunately, we can't prove everything on the accounts of half dead, paranoid and often delusional slaves, many of whom are children. Most know next to nothing about the traders themselves. Others' accounts don't match up to what we know. It's all a very hit-and-miss situation. However, we have happened upon one or two reliable sources who led me to investigate a wealthy family called 'Sheffield'. However, once investigation was heavily underway, they vanished."

"Well, why couldn't you just arrest them?"

"Because, we need evidence; we need the buyers. But when the buyers of an illegal trade are heavily immersed in illegal activity all their own, they tend to lay low. So, instead of pinning down one gang of criminals,"

"You're trying to pin down two." Gilan finished for him.

Halt grunted in agreement. "Try five or six. All at the same time. Whenever their dealers are in question of the law, nearly all bandits freeze all of their raiding for the time being. It's remarkable how word gets around in the underground. The baron and I would like to keep the Sheffields imprisoned until we could nab all the right bandits and connect the them to the Sheffields, but the law states that a suspected criminal can only be detained under suspicion of a crime for one week – hardly enough time to smoke out three to four gangs of thugs."

"A slippery situation." Gilan added, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

"Indeed. And to make things worse, I think I might personally know a Sheffield or two." Halt commented casually.

Gilan snapped his head around to look at Halt. "What? Who? Why?"

Halt took a deep breath. "Well," He said, "Sheffield was the surname of Will's mother."

Gilan could only stare. "_What?"

* * *

_

Back in Redmont, oblivious to the conversation taking place miles away and trying very hard not to panic, Will glanced nervously at the stack of paperwork that was slowly and steadily accumulating on Halt's desk.

He'd never been inside Halt's room before, but after the man had abandoned – er, _appointed _– Will to be the sole ranger of Redmont, Will had received the responsibility of retrieving any official documents that came in for Halt through the castle and depositing them in Halt's quarters, which he found to be very much like his; save for a few extra square metres of room and the addition of a workdesk. It was on this desk that Will piled Halt's neglected paperwork to wait until he returned. Of course, he wasn't authorized to read or respond to any of the material. Will glanced at the growing stack. _Was he?_

His palms sweated nervously at the very thought of violating the unspoken laws of authority here, but Will was quite certain that Crowley would be more than a bit peeved if Halt were to send in his monthly report about a month-and-a-half too late. And when Will spotted the Royal seal amongst the stack two days ago, his heart had given a nervous turn. Now _King Duncan _was sitting on Halt's waiting list?

Will swallowed. Surely every messenger from every respected figurehead of authority in the realm would come pounding on his door any day now, begging an answer for all of the late paperwork. And what answer would he have for them? _'Oh, yes, your majesty, you see, your most respected and saluted advisor, the legendary Ranger Halt took a few weeks off duty for a holiday to visit his apprentice. Well, his former apprentice, anyway; he's left the very important responsibility of looking after all of Redmont fief to me, his current apprentice – the one that can't even bring himself to look at your paperwork._

A loud knock broke into Will's thoughts and he jumped. He bent low and stuck over to the door, glancing out a small window to see who it was. He couldn't quite tell, but the blazon that the man was wearing was either that of a Baron's messenger, or that of a battleschool apprentice. Either one didn't sound particularly promising. Will gulped and opened the door.

"Yes?"

* * *

Whew. Kind of short, but I felt as though if I went any further, I'd be writing too much. I do hope I haven't ruined this. I felt kind of under pressure, writing the first chapter, but I tried to make it as interesting as I could without completely ruining it. I hope this isn't too serious and in depth and all… And I hope y'all like it… *braces self for riots* Good luck to whoever gets the next chapter!


	3. Old Enemy, New Ally by Rowana Renee

**A/N please don't kill me for what I'm about to do, okies guys?**

_A loud knock broke into Will's thoughts and he jumped. He bent low and stuck over to the door, glancing out a small window to see who it was. He couldn't quite tell, but the blazon that the man was wearing was either that of a Baron's messenger, or that of a battleschool apprentice. Either one didn't sound particularly promising. Will gulped and opened the door._

_"Yes?"_

There, standing on the porch and looking as sullen as a cat in a tub, was one of the last people Will would have ever expected to see again. It was a fairly tall fellow, taller than Will anyway, with scruffy blonde hair and big green eyes. He had a slight blanket of stubble over his chin, though it was clear from his appearance that he was still young of years; no older than twenty-nine at the most. He was dressed in simple attire, the clothing of a knight without armour, really. A leather jerkin over a loose white tunic, a sturdy belt and soft, doeskin breeches, along with hard-cuffed leather boots that came to just below his knees, and then of course there was the sword. All in all he looked like he could have been any knight, really. But no, he wasn't just any knight. Will would have recognized him anywhere, though admittedly his memory would have been jogged more quickly were this man holding a staff and grinning fit to loosen his own ears.

"You?" Will exclaimed, shocked nearly out of his wits.

Bryn nodded slightly and took a step back. "It would appear so..." he muttered

Will glared at him, remembering their last meeting all too well. But then, there was something else besides the part of his mind that was shrieking "Danger, danger!" that told him Bryn shouldn't be here, and that spoke ill of the former battleschool trainees' intentions. "Wait, you're supposed to be banished!" he exclaimed, vaguely wondering whether he'd remembered to bring his saxe knife.

Bryn nodded again, this time blushing and laughing nervously. "Well, nothing lasts forever, right?"

Will narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "I suppose not. What do you want?"

Bryn was starting to get annoyed, but he figured that the apprentice ranger had no reason whatsoever to trust him anyway, and he was really pushing his luck even to have come in the first place. But business was business, even if it did mean he was going to have to face what no one wanted to face; a potentially angry ranger Halt. "Actually, I've got a message for your mentor-" he began uneasily

Will raised an eyebrow, looking even more tense than before. "What if he's not here?" he asked

Bryn nearly fell over. "What do you mean he's not here?" well, it was rather befitting of Bryns' luck if the ranger, the person he'd been specifically sent to retrieve, was nowhere to be found. It didn't make Bryn any happier about it though...

Will backed away a bit. "I mean he's not here. But I can give him your message when he gets back."

Bryn raised an eyebrow as if trying to imitate Halt. "You're his _apprentice_."

Will scowled. "Yes, so what if I am?"

Bryn made an odd gesture with his hands, like he was trying to get a small child to understand something important. "My message is for Halt, not his little-"

Will went from scowling to glaring as hard as he could. "Little? I _have _gotten taller!"

Bryn snorted. "Yeah, by about two flea sizes..." catching Wills' murderous look he sighed, shoulders slumping. "Fine. This is important, though, so you can't go telling all of your lit- uh...all of your friends about it, alright?"

Will continued to glare daggers at him. "You do realize I'm not six, right?"

Bryn hesitated for a moment. "How old _are _you anyway?"

Will rolled his eyes. "Nineteen."

Bryn nodded slowly. "Nineteen...alright, I suppose you're old enough. Can I come in, by any chance?"

Will backed away a step. "Depends..."

Bryn sighed once more. "I don't have any weapons that wouldn't kill you, happy?"

Will nodded. "Very. Come in."

With that Will opened the door a little wider, retreating into the cabin to allow Bryn entrance and keeping a wary eye on him all the while. He wasn't truly worried that the former trainee might attack him, but he figured that it couldn't hurt to put up a good guise, as that might prove to be a rather good defense should Bryn decide that he _was _going to try something.

Bryn followed him calmly and looked around, noting that the cabin wasn't at all as creepy inside as he'd expected it to be; after all, the homes of rangers were supposed to be dark, dusty, and generally devoid of anything remotely pleasant. This, however, was the opposite. Well, it was sort of dark, but that was only because of the scarce lighting outside. It actually looked to be quite a nice little home, really.

"Are you through being nosy?"

Bryn winced at the remark and turned his attention back to his host. "Right, uh...sorry about that."

Will shrugged, deciding that it couldn't be such a bad thing to give Bryn a chance. Maybe. He waved off the apology and gestured toward the kitchen. "Eh, most people who come inside do that. Coffee?"

Bryn, once again making the mistake of thinking Will was younger than he really was, smirked. "So your mentor lets you drink coffee already? Isn't it a bit strong for you?"

Will cast him a withering look. "What would make you think that? If you don't like it you can just say no."

Bryn shrugged, having never really formed a proper opinion of the drink. Personally his favourite beverage was hot cocoa, but he didn't mind- like, or dislike- coffee or tea either. Besides, it might be rude to refuse anyway. "I suppose I'll have some." he said

Will nodded and motioned for Bryn to sit down while he started a pot of water getting hot on the stove, making sure to watch his guest while he did so. "You know," he said after a moment of silence, "I'm not exactly five, like you seem to think I am."

Bryn nodded amiably at that, still unsure of how exactly he should act around Will, seeing as how their last meeting hadn't been nice for either of them. He did, even though he knew that Will, being a ranger, was more mature than the average nineteen year old, equate the apprentice with the way he himself had acted at that age, and that meant that he wasn't exactly willing to share his message with one so young. It didn't help that he had little ones of his own to look after and that in itself had brought out a side of him that made him consider anyone beloew the age of twenty to be a child that needed protecting. But then, he supposed if he really started acting like Will was suddenly one of his own children then he'd most likely end up dead. "Of course. Sorry..."

Will scowled. "Mmhm."

There was an odd silence, broken only by the sound of coffee coming to a boil on the stove, before Bryn finally spoke. "So...eh...how have things been? With you and Ranger Halt, that is?"

Will, bringing two cups of coffee to the table and sliding one to Bryn before sitting down, shrugged. "Same as always, I expect. Halt's mostly just been teaching me boring things recently, like how to conjour things and breath fire. You do know we rangers use magic and everything..." he let his voice trail off mysteriously.

Bryn nearly choked on the sip of coffee he'd just taken. "Really? You can breath fire?"

Will all but cackled at how gullible Bryn was. "No, of course not! We're no more magic than the wheather! Are you insane? Nah, he's just been showing me new things to do with knives and such."

Bryn scowled at that. "I see."

Will nodded, now a little more comfortable. "You?"

Now Bryn wasn't sure where to begin. "Well, after I...uh..._left_...I found a fairly nice place to live. Seacliff, d'you know it?"

Will rolled his eyes. "Halt's already made me memorize the map of all the fiefs. Yes, I know it."

Bryn nodded slowly. "Well I lived there for a bit and...um...did you know I've gotten married?"

Will almost fell out of his chair. "What? Y-" he quickly paused, realizing that it might not be wise to offend Bryn.

Bryn chuckled pleasurably. "Yes _me_. Her name's Rosy, and she's a right nice fighter if you annoy her. It wasn't long after I moved to Seacliff, I met her and we had our wedding. Since then we've moved to a fief closer to Castle Araluen, and now we've got three little ones. The first two, John and Jacob, are twins. The youngest, Mairee, is only four months old."

Will smiled a bit at that. "Three children running about? Wow..."

Bryn nodded again. "Yeah. They're good though, and Rosy does well with them. Though if she had her way we'd have all girls...I swear she nearly fainted when we told her the first two were both boy, but then all women are sort of like that."

Will nodded and took another sip of coffee. "So...what do you do now? Are you a knight?"

Bryn shook his head. "Eh...no, actually. That's where my message for Halt comes in. I'm a scout now. I figured it would be too hard to get back into training, what with my record and everything, so I joined the scouts instead. It's actually fairly easy, go see the captain and go here or go there, collect what he wants and come back, do it again. That sort of thing. But just recently I was with a group near the border, investigating something fishy tht seems to be going on. I don't suppose the real news has traveled here yet, has it? Hear anything at all about trouble of any sort near the borders?"

Will shook his head, now paying full attention. "No. What happened?"

Bryn sighed and fished around in his pocket for a moment, drawing something out after a few seconds and placing it on the table, his hand covering it so Will couldn't see what it was. "There's something going on, just outside of Araluen. We don't know what it involves, except that it's probably not good. Ordinarily this," he nodded toward his hand, which was still covering whatever the object was, "Wouldn't have been considered worthy of even being picked up. But there's something about it...you're a ranger, you've got sharp eyes, right? Maybe you'll see what I see."

Will nodded and leaned a little closer. "What is it?"

Bryn shrugged. "You tell me." with that he moved his hand off of the object so Will could see it.

There, sitting on the table, was a-  
_

**Heh heh heh, hate it? Probably...I thought it was a little weird, but it was the best I could come up with lol**


	4. Gems and Affairs by PhantomDragon12

**A/N: Not really sure bout this, but here it goes. **

**Disclaimer: I dun own Ranger's Apprentice or any characters from the series. ****  
**

* * *

Gems and Affairs

by  
PhantomDragon12

* * *

Bryn shrugged. "You tell me." with that he moved his hand off of the object so Will could see it.

There, sitting on the table, was a-

Lump. That was really the only way Will could describe it. In fact, his brain took a minute to realize that the whatever-it-was was wrapped in a piece of burlap sack.

The apprentice looked at it for a minute, then, after looking to Bryn for permission, reached out and grasped the item.

Although it only took a second to unravel it, Will's mind took a lot longer to actually contemplate what he was holding in his hand.

At first glance, he could tell it was valuable. How could it not be? Any gem of this size, about as big as his thumbnail, had to be worth something. In the palm of Will's hand rested an emerald.

Will's gaze slid to Byrn. "Why would this concern the Ranger Corps?" It was the most blunt sentence Will could come up with. But what he really wanted to say was more along the lines of, "Is this real?" or "Oh, Bryn, you shouldn't have!" But he didn't.

Bryn blinked. "Well, not to long ago, I found a runaway child. She claimed to be a slave, but she was half delirious at the time. Either way, emeralds are very rare in Araluen, and so they're very expensive."

"Well, I suppose that makes sense. But what does this have to do with Rangers?"

Bryn chewed on his lower lip for a minute before answering. "A noble by the name of Sheffield has a emerald like this one. He'd just bought it, so it could be set in a custom-made ring."

"And…" Will prompted.

"And, the emerald was reported stolen not a week ago. Sadly, if what the slave said is true, she took it right from the person who captured her."

* * *

"You're sure about this?"

Halt glanced at his former apprentice and decided the question didn't need answering.

But Gilan was nothing, if not persistent. "I'm not sure about this Halt."

And that particular situation went on for about ten minutes, before Halt decided to set Gilan straight.

"Gilan, this noble we're going to see is no friend of Sheffield, right?"

A little dumbfounded, Gilan just nodded.

Satisfied, Halt turned around and walked over to Abelard, Gilan trailing behind him.

They rode in silence before the suspense made Halt ask. "It's really simple enough, so why wouldn't it be a good idea?"

Gilan shifted uncomfortably in Blaze's saddle. "Well… Lord Bryon isn't exactly a fan of mine."

Halt raised an eyebrow. "Meaning…"

Gilan shifted again, turning a little red. "We had a… disagreement."

Shrugging, Halt turned his gaze toward the large manor house. It didn't take long for him to realize that he and Gilan were gathering glares. Well, to put it more specifically, Gilan was getting all the glares, while he was mostly ignored.

But while Rangers called on Ranger business, it was hardly a good idea to turn them away, so Halt and Gilan were ushered into Bryon's study only to find…

* * *

**Okay, I'm really not sure where anyone will take this story after me, but that's the beauty of these kinds of stories right?**


	5. Lord Byron's At An End by Ally4054

**Lord Byron's At An End**

_By_

_Ally4054

* * *

_

_But while Rangers called on Ranger business, it was hardly a good idea to turn them away, so Halt and Gilan were ushered into Bryon's study only to find-_

Bryon, dead on the floor, a small puddle of scarlet blood was next to his body and his sightless eyes were staring at the ceiling. Both Halt and Gilan were speechless, even Halt took more than a few minutes to register what he was seeing.

Though he composed himself and called to the secretary, who came in and almost fell to the floor when he saw what had happened. He had just been in there a moment before, and now Bryon lay dead.

After the secretary was gone to find someone to take care of Byron's body, and to inform family members and friends of his death, the two Rangers set to work looking around the room, it was obviously a murder, and they had found a spot on his throat that had been cut.

"What reason would someone have to kill him?," Gilan thought out loud.

Halt did his normal response; he shrugged and continued on with what he was doing. He looked out the window, "This wouldn't be too hard a climb, but I don't know how he would get down without being noticed."

Then it hit him, the murderer had come in and killed Byron within the time his secretary had asked if his visitors could come in, then when they had entered the room, which was a matter of minutes. So where had he gone? He could still be in the room.

Ignoring the odd look from Gilan he spun around and scanned over the room, there wasn't anywhere to hide, was there? He checked behind the small couch and chair that was set on the opposite side of the room. Nothing, there wasn't anywhere to hide, could they really have climbed down the side of the room in the castle without being noticed?

"Oh wow," Gilan exclaimed as he stood behind the dead man's desk, "Come look at this Halt!"

"What is it?," he asked curiously, though he made sure his voice held no trace of it, he made his way around the corner of the desk to see an expensive look green gem in the seat of the desk.

"I've heard of this kind of gem before," Gilan said thoughtfully as he put it in the palm of his hand and swished it around, "I think it's an emerald. That's rare in Araluen, right? You could buy a castle with an emerald this size!" He said somewhat excitedly. Maybe this is what the murder was after! It was expensive, after all.

"There is only one problem Gilan," Halt said swiping the gem from his hands and looking at it closer.

"What would that be?"

"It's a fake, this gem isn't real."

"How can you tell," Gilan asked, curious about what was unfolding.

"It isn't the right color, it's a little off, and this is shaped strangely, see how one side is arched then more of a zigzagged," he said, pointing, "no one in their right mind would shape it like that."

Gilan was about to talk when Halt stopped him, "Yes I know, this is probably what the murderer was after, it's most likely when he found out it wasn't real he killed Byron, or maybe he had just happened to have found the gem and the murderer just killed him to get it."

Halt tapped his foot on the ground, thinking, but suddenly he realized as he tapped the ground it sounded different from the footsteps he had been making earlier.

Gilan seemed to realize too, and as Halt stepped off the spot Gilan pulled back the carpet to reveal an old, rotten looking wood hatch door.

* * *

Meanwhile back at Redmont Will had made a big decision, deciding to trust Bryn, he had set out with him. He left a note in the house to be given to the Baron and Crowley, explaining everything.

Will would have liked to explain himself but Bryn said they needed to act fast, even though he would rather have someone older and more experienced instead of the young apprentice.

There was an uncomfortable silence as they rode on, towards Seacliff where they had decided to go first, in the light of the late afternoon sun. Will knew Bryn was wishing this had turned out differently, with someone like Halt there, Will wished Halt was there too, but he wasn't. He was a Ranger too though, and he would be graduating next year, Bryn would have to have Will help.

"So what kind of experience do you have?," Bryn asked, pointing out, in the most nondescript way he could, how Will was only an apprentice, yet again.

Will let out a frustrated sigh, "Oh I don't know, killed a Kalkara, one of the most feared creatures. I burned a bridge across the Fissure in the war against Morgarath crushing an important part of his strategy, then in Skandia helped in the war against the Temujai, by training and commanding a group of archers."

Normally he wouldn't have said something about the things people thought were so amazing but Bryn was starting to get on his nerves.

Then just as they turned a corner, before Bryn could reply they ran into…

* * *

**Oh my gosh! I killed somebody! Anyway, I didn't really know how to end it, so I ended it like that, this way the next person can have them run into anything, like it doesn't have to be a person, even though it still can be, it can be anything or anyone! Anyway, that was fun! Good Luck to the next person!**


	6. Three's A Crowd by Arlothia

**Three's a Crowd**

_By_

_Arlothia

* * *

_

_Then just as they turned a corner, before Bryn could reply they ran into…_

A man sitting on a battle horse. Seeing someone else on the deserted road made Bryn and Will stop their horses as soon as they saw him. And unfortunately, the man on the horse saw them too.

"Will! Why are you out and about so far from your cabin?" inquired Sir Rodney, battle master of Redmont Fief. He hadn't noticed Bryn's presence yet.

"Well…I…" Will began, realizing that if Sir Rodney saw Bryn things would not end well. But it didn't take long for Rodney to notice his ex-apprentice.

"Bryn?" he said, sitting a little straighter in his saddle and casually putting a hand on the hilt of his sword. "What are you doing here? You were banished from Redmont! You better have a good explanation for why you're here or I'll be the one to dish out that last part of your banishment: 'On pain of death,' remember?"

Bryn began to speak but Will interceded. "No, please Sir Rodney!" he began, putting himself between the knight and Bryn. "I can vouch for him." Will explained the situation as Rodney sat on his horse, hand still on his sword, fuming.

After a long pause he said, "Slave trafficking, huh?" He looked at Bryn for a long moment as if weighing his return with stopping the trafficking, trying to figure out which was more important. The answer was not difficult, although it was not welcome. "This better be the last time you set foot on Redmont soil, Bryn. If you honor _this_ then I won't hunt you down." Turning to Will he continued. "I'm not one to undermine your skills, Will, and I know you might trust him, but I still don't. I'm going to send someone with you just in case. Plus, it might be nice to have some one else to work with to bring these slavers down."

They rode back towards Castle Redmont. Not wanting to cause a stir in town, Rodney left Bryn and Will with Tom, the local blacksmith. "If he causes any trouble…" Rodney left if at that and headed the rest of the way to the battle school training grounds.

A few minutes later, Rodney returned with one of his apprentices right behind him. Will was pleased, but not at all surprised, to see that it was Horace.

"Bryn," Horace said curtly.

"Horace," Bryn began. "Please forgive me for what I did to you. There's no excuse for that. But I've changed. Please don't hold it against me now."

Horace was slow to answer, looking at Will to know what he thought. Will inclined his head slightly to let his friend know that he trusted him. When Horace still didn't answer right away, Will said, "We weren't friends while growing up in the ward, Horace. But we've gotten past that. Do the same for Bryn, and if not for him, then do if for all the people who're being sold into slavery. Do it for them."

Horace took a deep breath and relaxed in his seat. "Alright," he said. "If Will trusts you then so do I."

"Then it's settled," Sir Rodney said. "Get whatever provisions you need and then head out. Good luck." And with that he turned his horse around and headed back to the castle.

* * *

Halt strung his bow and knocked an arrow as Gilan reached down to pull the hatch door open. The door broke apart when Gilan dropped it to the stone floor. He drew his sword and they looked down into the square hole. Steep stone steps traveled down into the hole where a dim light could be seen.

"I'll go first," said Halt. Gilan nodded. They traveled in single file, the passageway only large enough for one person to walk down them at a time. When they descended to the bottom of the stairs they saw—

* * *

_Dun, dun, duuuun! Okay, Alyss Mainwaring, what do you think should happen? Hope you all liked it! Good luck!_


	7. Foreign Company by Alyss Mainwaring

**Just to warn you this chapter is probably going to be short. And it will be totally on Halt & gang as I have no clue where to go for Will & gang… Also I have noticed that on here people put speech marks in the double quotation ( " ) I was taught to only do single ones and if that annoys you… I would have to say just live with it. (The language is Irish.)

* * *

**

_"I'll go first," said Halt. Gilan nodded. They travelled in single file, the passageway only large enough for one person to walk down them at a time. When they descended to the bottom of the stairs they saw—_

An aged woman. Gilan was impressed. Here they were slave trafficking and they had an old woman to sell. What on Earth?

Halt on the other hand was shocked. Although he was thinking alone the same lines of Gilan, his questions differed slightly. Do I know her?

Slowly the woman acknowledged their presence and looked up to see who they were.

She looked foreign to say the least. She was short of build and had hair going down to her waist which looked as if she had not cut it for a long time.

Beside him Gilan felt rather than saw Halt jump with shock. _She _had made _Halt _jump? She didn't look all that special. Suddenly she spoke. A foreign tongue but one Halt seemed to understand.

'An bhfuil sé leat? Ndáiríre tú? Ní chreidim é!'

'Sea , tá sé dom . Dúradh liom go raibh tú marbh !'

'Tá mé go minic gur mhian leis a bheith amhlaidh , ach faraor , ní mar sin a bheith . Theastaigh uaim féin a mharú , ach an smaoineamh mé tú choinneáil ag dul . Cén chaoi a bhfuil tú ag an slí? Tá tú ag caitheamh éadaí suimiúil ach taobh amuigh de sin a fhéachann tú go maith . Conas is Ferris? Cad mar gheall ar mo mhac? An bhfuil duine éigin dó fuair sé? Tá gotten sé pósta?'

Gilan was watching all this with an amused expression on his face. Halt obviously know this woman, whoever she was. He also knows the language she was speaking. He was starting to feel left out of this.

'Halt…'

'What?' Halt said sharply, turning around from his very animated conversation with the woman.

Gilan continued, unsure now.

'Who is she and what language is that?' But he might not have answered quickly enough as Halt had turned back to the woman and started speaking again. Halt sighed and turned around once more.

'For your information this woman is –

* * *

**And I wish you all luck.**

**The random language is Irish**

**TRANSLATION: "' Is it you ? you really ? I do not believe it !"**

**"Yes, it is me . I was told you were dead !"**

**I have often wished for that to be so, but alas, that was not to be. I wanted to kill myself but the thought of you kept me going. How are you by the way? You are wearing interesting clothes but aside from that you look well. How are Ferris? What about my son? Has he found someone for him? Has he gotten married?**

**I live to turn Author's worlds upside down.**

**Alyss Mainwaring**


	8. Reunion by pixie blue

_A/N: Is this thing on? Um, hi. I'm pixie blue. Kidge was supposed to be doing this chapter, but for whatever reason, they couldn't do it, so you guys are stuck with me. Sorry 'bout that._

_Okay, so this is the first time I've tried something like this, so I'll admit I'm a little nervous. I think I actually did okay, but I'm still a bit worried that I've ruined it. Hopefully I haven't, and hopefully you'll enjoy!_

_Oh, and I realize that everyone else so far has been using FF's given line breaks, but I like my line breaks so I'll use my line breaks. :P_

.:':. .:':. .:':.

Reunion

by

pixie blue

.:':. .:':. .:':.

_"Who is she and what language is that?" But he might not have answered quickly enough as Halt had turned back to the woman and started speaking again. Halt sighed and turned around once more._

_"For you information this woman is-"  
_  
"My sister."

If at all physically possible, Gilan's jaw would have hit the ground. "Wha-? Bu... y... huh?"

Halt looked amused. "Why don't you try speaking in Araluen? I'm not sure what language that was, but I know I don't understand it."

"But... how can she be your sister?"

"Well, Gilan, I would have thought someone your age would know about the process of birth, but since you seem ignorant, I'll have to-"

"Halt, you know that's not what I meant." He calmed down a little. But only a little.

"What did you mean, then?" Halt asked, already knowing full well what Gilan was going to say.

"I thought your sister was dead."

He raised an eyebrow. "Well, I obviously got some incorrect information. I don't know about you, but she looks fairly alive to me." With that, he resumed his conversation with his sister, much to the utter confusion of Gilan, who unsuccessfully tried to follow what was being said.

.:':. .:':. .:':.

"Can we stop to eat yet?"

"Horace, we've been riding for less than two hours. Is it impossible for you to spend that much time without thinking about your stomach?"

He pondered it for a moment, then replied, "No."

Will sighed, but the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. Horace's seemingly insatiable appetite was often a source of amusement for him.

Riding slightly behind the other two, Bryn watched the proceedings with slight confusion. He would have thought that Horace, already being a knight, would have taken charge of the group, yet he had deferred to Will immediately. Bryn could make no sense of it. But even as he thought it, Will's voice echoed through his head. I killed a Kalkara, one of the country's most feared creatures. I burned a bridge across the Fissure in the war against Morgarath, crushing an important part of his strategy, then in Skandia helped in the war against the Temujai by training and commanding a group of archers. He felt a little ashamed of himself; just because Will was small and an apprentice didn't mean that he was by any means an inadequate leader. In fact, with his Ranger training and tactical mind, he was probably better suited to the position than Horace.

Whilst Bryn was lost in thought, Will continued to light-heartedly badger Horace about his cavernous stomach.

The rest of the ride continued in a similar fashion, with easily-flowing banter. Horace and Will made a conscious effort to include Bryn in the conversation, and the former bully felt a sense of peace as he realised he had indeed been fully forgiven.

.:':. .:':. .:':.

"Now can we stop?"

Will rolled his eyes, smiling. "There's a village up ahead. Can you wait until we get there?"

Horace's stomach growled. "Maybe." They laughed.

Talking happily, they rode into the small hamlet. A few people hurried quickly through the streets, but otherwise the place was deserted. Their chatter died.

"What's going on?" Bryn muttered. "Hey, you!" he called to a middle-aged man scurrying across the street. He jumped at Bryn's voice. "Would you please tell us why there's no one around?"

He blinked rapidly, eyes twitching. "How haven't you heard? Lord Byron was killed earlier today. Everyone here is staying inside as much as they can in case the bastard who done it gets any ideas, spreading fear among the people, y'know? 'Course, they tried to keep it quiet like, but that sort of thing just gets out. We heard about it here probably 'bout two hours after it happened, what with being so close to the castle all. Really, when they try to cover something like that up, it just spreads faster, and with the Ranger Halt there, of course people-"

His torrent of words was cut off by Will. "Halt was there? Is he still?"

The man scratched his head, thinking. "Well, maybe. Last we heard he was. 'Course, that was two hours ago, when we found out 'bout the poor Lord and all. There really-" He stopped himself as he realised that none of them were listening and had already headed off. Remembering that it probably wasn't safe on the streets with Lord Byron's murderer uncaptured, he quickly made himself scarce.

.:':. .:':. .:':.

Will itched to let Tug to ride at the pace that made Ranger horses so famous, but knew that if he did, Horace and Bryn would be left behind in the dust. They were slowed further still by the fact that Bryn's horse was one that hadn't been trained for speed, and also had horrible endurance. Eventually, though, they did reach the castle.

The castle courtyard was even emptier than the village had been. It was a good five minutes before they saw one of the castle servants, and Will immediately asked them if Halt was still there, to which the servant replied, "He was in the Lord's study, looking for clues, last I heard. There would have been a message sent around if he hadn't found anything, I would think, so it's  
probably safe to say he's still there."

"Where's the study?"

"Down the hallway, the second stairway on the right, third exit, first door." Will thanked the servant and they moved on.

Pounding up the stairs, Will came up with a million witty remarks to make to Halt about leaving him in charge of Redmont without any proper instructions, but the words died as he opened the study door to see a very confused looking Gilan watching Halt, who was deep in conversation in a foreign tongue with a strange woman. Halt looked up. "Will. Good of you to join us," he said amiably, as if it were not at all surprising to be running into his apprentice in the study of an assassinated noble. "May I ask why you're not in Redmont, like you're supposed to be? And Horace, nice to see you haven't decided to stop growing yet. And who-" He froze as he saw Bryn standing behind them, then was suddenly aiming his throwing knife at the ex-battle-apprentice-turned-scout. Bryn gulped. "You have exactly three seconds to explain what you're doing anywhere near Will and Horace." Halt told him angrily.

Quickly, Will stepped in front of Bryn, effectively blocking Halt's aim. "Bryn's here to help us stop the slave trafficking," he said hurriedly. "Horace and I have forgiven him for what he did. We're not holding anything against him."

"Doesn't mean I won't," he muttered, but he sheathed his knife anyway.

The woman suddenly spoke up. "Cad atá ar siúl? Cén fáth a bhí ag bagairt tú gur fear óg? Cé hiad na daoine eile?" (What's going on? Why were you threatening that young man? Who are these other people?)

Bryn, Will and Horace looked at each other in bewilderment. What on earth? They were even more surprised when Halt replied in the same foreign language.

"Is é an fear faoi bhagairt mé ainmnithe Bryn. Bhí orainn a... easaontas cúpla bliain ar ais. Is é Will, an ceann a sheas sé os comhair mo Bryn printíseach, mar a úsáidtear Gilan a bheith. An eile, Horace, tá Knight. (The man I threatened is named Bryn. We had a... disagreement a few years back. Will, the one who stood in front of Bryn, is my apprentice, like Gilan used to be. The other, Horace, is a knight.)

Will looked between Halt and the woman, completely baffled. "What's going on?"

"Oh, of course. This is my sister, Caitlyn."

Horace stared, open-mouthed. Will's eyes bulged. Bryn just looked even more puzzled than before.

"Wait- what?" Will looked at Gilan, who shrugged.

"I'm still getting used to it myself."

The corner of Halt's mouth twitched into a small smile. "You should have seen his face."

"Um, Halt, why exactly is she here?"

A grimace flickered across Halt's face. "She was captured by the slave traffickers. They were holding her here and were going to sell her off."

He blinked. "Uh, wow." His gaze flashed to Caitlyn, who had an expression of intense concentration etched on her face, laced with confusion and frustration. Will guessed she was trying to figure out what was being said, and failing quite miserably. "Not meaning any offence, Halt, but why would they be trafficking an old woman?"

"They'd figured out who she was." He sighed. "But I think the more pressing question is why she was being held in Lord Byron's study, of all places. She said that Byron never came down to see her, and it's possible he didn't know about it, though why the traffickers would take a risk like that is beyond  
me."

"…So you're saying he might have been involved?" Will ventured.

"Maybe. I certainly hope not," Halt replied grimly. "Having had support from someone in a position as high up as a Lord would mean that they have far more power and influence than we had anticipated. Although Byron is dead, they may have connections with other nobles." He sighed again, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Well, what about Byron? If we figure out who killed him, it might help with everything else."

Halt growled in frustration. "Neither Gilan nor I could find any clues as to who murdered Byron. All we found was a fake emerald, but that doesn't really do us any-"

"Emerald?" Bryn asked sharply. Halt glared at him for interrupting. "S-Sorry, Ranger Halt. I-It's just that I was given an emerald, to show you. I'd almost forgotten about it. It's the reason I'm here with Will and Horace, actually. See, I'm a scout now, and-"

"The emerald!" Halt snapped impatiently.

Bryn flushed. "Right, of course. Sorry." He shoved a hand into his pocket, digging up the burlap covered gem and unwrapping it to show Halt. "Here."

Suddenly, the fake emerald appeared in the palm of Halt's right hand, and he plucked the genuine jewel from Bryn's fingers with his left. They were almost the exact same size. "I thought so," he murmured. "This must be the emerald that the murderer was after, but instead he found this." He held up the fake  
emerald. "As to why Byron would have a fake, I have no idea. He would have had access to the opinions of any jewellers residing in his fief, and even a novice would be able to tell that this was a fake."

"Maybe he didn't want anyone to know he had a fake?" Horace suggested.

"You might be onto something there," Gilan replied. "If that's the case, he wouldn't have gone to any big name jewelers – they'd want to know why he needed a fake when he could probably afford the real thing. Some shady back-alley dealer wouldn't have asked any questions, but the quality of their work is usually inferior. It's easy to tell it's a fake, but Byron obviously had little experience with identifying gems."

"If that is indeed the case," Halt reminded him.

Will's gaze flicked around the room. "You said you couldn't find any clues about the murder besides the fake emerald?"

"I hope you're not inferring that my skills are lacking," Halt said grumpily.

He waved a hand dismissively, now looking under the desk for anything that might have been missed. "Of course not. It's just probably a good idea to get a second opinion."

"Gilan checked too. You're saying he's not good enough now?"

"A third opinion wouldn't hurt either." He walked over to the window, hoisting himself over the ledge and disappearing. A second later, his grinning face reappeared over the window sill. "You're losing touch, Halt." A few strands of fibre dangled from his fingers as he clambered back into the room.

Scowling, Halt snatched the threads from Will's hand. He scrutinised them for a moment, then handed them to Gilan. "What do you make of it?"

"Rather nondescript. Thin fibre, medium grey in colour, probably from a cloak or a coat. Whoever was wearing what these came from didn't want to be conspicuous."

Halt nodded in approval. "We'd best be going. I don't think we'll be finding any more clues here."

.:':. .:':. .:':.

They rode back out to the village that Will, Horace and Bryn had travelled through earlier. Caitlyn was riding with Horace on Kicker, as none of the other horses would have been able to carry the load of two people and still keep pace. Will and Halt broke off from the others and headed towards a tavern to see if there was anyone that might have noticed anything unusual that could help lead to finding Byron's murderer. The others continued on.

Slowly, they came to a standstill outside one of the outlying farms. Gilan swung deftly from his saddle and knocked on the door of the small cottage at its front. The others dismounted behind him. A nervous pattering of feet sounded, and the door was opened by a cautious hand. "Yes?" The girl opening the door quavered until she recognised Gilan's attire. "Oh, a Ranger! Have you come to catch Lord Byron's murderer?"

Gilan smiled easily. "Something like that. Do you happen to have a horse you could spare? My friend here is in need of one." He gestured towards Caitlyn. "I'd be happy to pay you for your troubles, and we'd return the horse within a few days."

"Hold on. I'll ask my father." She disappeared for a moment, then came back and slipped out from behind the doorway. She looked to be about twelve years old. "Of course, Ranger. Right this way." She led them inside the barn. It was a cacophony of sound - the animals had been taken inside well before it got dark. Chickens clucked, cows lowed, sheep bleated, ducks quacked, horses neighed. But Gilan and the others only payed attention to the last animal. "I'm sorry, she isn't much," the girl said, patting a roan mare on the nose. "But she's a good horse, and fairly fast. Of course, she'd never keep up with a Ranger horse." She blushed. "Sorry again. I wish there was more I could do."

"It's alright, you've done plenty." Gilan smiled again. "Most people aren't as helpful towards Rangers. They tend to be scared of us."

"The Ranger of this fief saved my brother's life once. I feel indebted to the Rangers for that. I try to help as much as I can, but..." She blushed again.  
"There isn't really that much I can do. I'm just a child, after all."

"What's your name?"

"Kaileen."

"Well, Kaileen, you've been a big help today. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Ranger."

Caitlyn walked over to the roan mare uncertainly. The horse blinked docilely at her. Gilan stepped forward to help her mount. Once everyone was on their horse, Gilan turned back to Kaileen, tossing over three silver coins, one after the other.

Fumbling to catch them, her eyes widened at the amount Gilan had given her. "I can't possibly accept this!" she stammered. "It's far too much for just lending you a horse!"

"Nonsense!" he winked at her. "Buy your family something nice. We'll see you in a few days to bring the horse back. What's her name, by the way?"

"It's Saffy." she replied, unable to look away from the coins gleaming in her hand.

He tipped his head. "Thank you." They rode off, leaving Kaileen clutching the three coins in her fist as she ran back inside to show her father.

.:':. .:':. .:':.

"Are you sure it's a good idea to leave Caitlyn with the others? None of them can talk with her."

Halt snorted. "My sister is a very capable person. She'll be fine. You can see she wasn't in shock about being captured. She's stronger than that."

"You want to talk to me about something, don't you?"

He nodded approvingly. "Good that you caught on to that so easily. I would have been disappointed if you hadn't."

"Halt, I've been your apprentice for years now. I know how you act."

Sighing, Halt rested his elbows on the table. "I suppose I should tell you what it is then. It's about your mother." Will stiffened. "She was a Sheffield."

"What?" His eyes bulged. "Wait, if you knew my mother's last name, why didn't you write it on the note when you left me at the Ward?"

"It's what I wanted to tell you." He sighed again. "Given recent events, I think it's time you know.

"After your mother had given birth to you, she asked me to take you to her brother, telling me where he lived so I could take you there. She knew she was dying. She asked me to let her hold you, and of course I did. I could see that she loved you, so much. Always know that, Will.

"She cradled you in her arms for almost an hour. After that, she looked up at me, passing you into my arms. She told me she wanted you to be named Will. Then she died.

"I did as she wished. I took you to her brother, riding for a half-day without stopping. When I got there, I asked to see the man of the house. He walked into the room, pushing the servants out of his way. I disliked him in that instant, but your mother had wanted you to stay with him. I explained what had happened, and he just turned up his nose at me and told me to leave you in the Ward, or better yet, toss you into a ditch." Halt's fists tightened in rage. "He didn't even care that his sister had died," he continued softly. "I left you at the Ward with that note, but I left out the name Sheffield for a reason. Your mother was a kind person, and obviously didn't know her brother for what he truly was. I didn't want you to grow up knowing that you had family that didn't want you. I didn't want you to be associated with such a heartless piece of scum." He thumped a fist angrily on the tabletop. A few of the patrons gave him wary glances.

"All the more reason for us to bring him to justice." Will smiled grimly. "Thank you for telling me, Halt."

The door swung open and Gilan, Caitlyn, Horace and Bryn strode in.

"Good timing," Halt noted.

Gilan grinned. "You find anything out that can help us?"

He looked a little frustrated. "No. Everyone is still scared about Byron's murderer being at large. The few people that are here aren't talking at all."

"Why don't you just ask?" Horace enquired.

Halt just became more annoyed. "And make them clam up even more? If they don't talk by themselves, they won't talk at all."

"Do you still have the threads that Will found?"

"You're wasting your time," he muttered, but handed them over regardless. Horace casually walked over to one of the tables. The others watched as he engaged one of the men there in conversation, showing him the grey fibres. Nodding, the man told Horace something. Several of the men sitting around the table nodded as well. Horace clapped him on the back and gave him a word of thanks. He walked back over to the others.

"He and his friends said they saw a man in a medium grey cloak come in earlier today. He was in a bit of a rush and kept his cloak tight around him, like he was trying to hide something. They also said that he was really surly, being rude to the bartender because he wasn't getting him what he wanted quick enough."

"And what did he want?"

Horace shrugged. "They didn't know. But one of them followed him out to make sure he didn't cause any trouble. The grey-cloaked man got on a horse and headed north." He grinned. "Looks like we've got a lead. Guess asking isn't so bad after all." He dropped the grey strands in Halt's palm.

Suddenly, Caitlyn let loose a stream of Hibernian. She was obviously fed up with not being able to tell what was being said. "Halt, cad atá ar siúl? Cén fáth a bhfuil tú ar buile faoin Knight? Cad a rinne sé?" (Halt, what's going on? Why are you angry at the knight? What did he do?)

"Ní dhéanfaidh aon ní, tá sé go breá. Creideann sé ach tá sé i bhfad níos cliste ná mar atá sé." (Nothing, it's fine. He just thinks he's a lot smarter than he is.)

Will tapped his chin, glancing at Caitlyn. "She doesn't understand any Araluen at all, does she?"

"No. We were taught many languages when we were growing up, but Caitlyn had a tendency not to pay attention during her lessons." Halt could see what Will was getting at. "Even if she had overheard any of Byron's conversations, she wouldn't have understood a thing."

"But she still might have heard if Byron was having an argument with someone, right?" Will persisted. "I mean, you can tell if someone's arguing from the tone of their voice, even if you don't know what it is they're saying." Halt still looked skeptical. "It can't hurt to ask. It might even help."

"I doubt it will amount to anything."

"It won't if we don't try."

Halt threw up his hands. "What is with you young people today, suddenly questioning my authority? You two better not start either." Bryn and Gilan exchanged glances.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Halt," Gilan replied cheekily.

"Halt, just ask her."

He glared at his apprentice, who gaze calmly back at him."Fine." He turned to Caitlyn and asked her in Hibernian. At least, the others assumed he was asking her. None of them knew the language, so he could have been telling her that Will was actually a leprechaun for all they could tell.

Caitlyn furrowed her brow at Halt's question, trying to remember. Suddenly, her face lit up and she started jabbering animatedly in Hibernian. Will looked smug.

"Told you. What's she saying?"

"Hold on, I'm trying to listen." He watched Caitlyn intently.

A few moments passed after Caitlyn stopped talking. "…So… what did she say?"

"We'll talk outside." They filed out of the tavern and into the stables. Halt glanced around to make sure there were no eavesdroppers. "She said that-"

.:':. .:':. .:':.

_A/N: Eek. That was probably a really bad place to end it. *sweat drop* Sorry if I made it difficult for whoever has the next chapter._

_Yes, Saffy is a real horse. Just thought you'd like to know._

_Let me just say that the fact that Halt knew that Will's mum had been a Sheffield and yet had not given him a last name was something that irked me for a while, but I enjoyed coming up with a reason for it so now I'm glad of that inconsistency. :)_

_I was originally going to have a lot more, and that end scene was completely different, but if I'd chosen that path there would be about a thousand more words, and I figured I'd made it long enough already, seeing how it's the longest chapter in the story and all... hehe, oops. Hope an odd 4,000 words wasn't too much for you. Though it's probably the longest chapter I've written in a while. 9 pages in Word, yay. Sorry it took so long._

_Good luck to whoever has the next chapter!_

_-pixie._


	9. Wait, Who? by Spookisapuppy

_So, we've officially run out of people to write chapters. So, I decided to just go ahead and write this one. And then I guess we can just all start over or something. Would you guys be willing to do a second chapter? Or is there anyone else out there who wants to write a chapter? If you do, please write a review and tell me. Oh, and I'm really not sure about this chapter. Spookie :P

* * *

_

**Wait, who?**

by

Spookisapuppy

* * *

_"We'll talk outside." They filed out of the tavern and into the stables. Halt glanced around to make sure there were no eavesdroppers. "She said that-"_

"-she overheard Byron arguing with a man. She says that she caught a glance of him just before he turned to leave. Apparently, he was wearing a gray cloak, and matches the description of the man the townspeople described leaving the tavern. She says that both men seemed angry, and there was a lot of shouting before the gray cloaked man stormed out of the room."

"There, you see?" Will said, "That wasn't so hard."

"And it confirms our suspicions," Bryn said.

"Yes, it confirms what we already knew, which means it was useless," Halt said.

"No," Gilan said, "Now we know for sure that the man in the tavern has some connection to Lord Byron. Before all we had was a bunch of gray threads. Now we have a suspect."

"Yes, and we're also losing time talking," Halt said, "We need to be on the move." Halt moved to saddle Abelard, the others quickly following suit. As they filed out of the stables Halt and Caitlyn hung back, riding at the rear of the group. They spoke quietly for several minutes, the others couldn't understand any of what was being said, and assumed that they were simply catching up on lost time. They were wrong.

"Halt, cad atá cearr? Nuair a bheidh cur síos mé an fear a chuaigh tú pale. Cé hé féin?" (Halt, what's wrong? When I described the man, you went pale. Who is he?)

"Tá sé rud ar bith, Caitlyn, tá sé ar aon duine. Níl sé tábhachtach." (It's nothing Caitlyn, he's no one. It's not important.)

Caitlyn smirked. "Aon duine, Halt? Ná déan iarracht bréag dom. Tá a fhios agat air." (No one, Halt? Don't try to lie to me. You know him.) Halt sighed in frustration. Caitlyn had always been able to read him better than anyone else.

"Sea, a fhios agam air." (Yes, I do know him.)

"Cé hé féin?" (Who is he?) Caitlyn demanded.

"Sé ...," (He…) Halt hesitated, "Tá sé ach duine éigin go bhfuil mé le chéile roimhe seo. Tá sé tábhachtach nach bhfuil i ndáiríre, Caitlyn, geallaim." (He's just someone that I've met before. He really isn't important, Caitlyn, I promise.)

"Ceart go leor." (Alright.)

The brother and sister lapsed into silence for a moment. Already, Halt could feel guilt building up in his gut. Here was Caitlyn, who he'd thought dead for years, and he was already lying to her. Caitlyn smiled suddenly, ignoring the feeling that Halt had lied once more. "Cad é an raibh tú suas le haghaidh gach ceann de na blianta Halt?" (What have you been up to for all of these years Halt?)

Halt shrugged. "Fuair mé pósta." (I got married.)

A smile too big for her face lit up Caitlyn's features. "I ndáiríre? Chun a? Inis dom faoi gach cuid." (Really? To who? Tell me all about her.) Caitlyn demanded.

"Bhuel, tá sí an-álainn ..." (Well, she's very beautiful…) Halt couldn't help a smile touching his lips as he told his sister all about Pauline. But, somewhere in the back of his mind, Halt was worried. Because, while he'd told the others that Caitlyn had described the man that had been in the tavern, he hadn't told them that the man she described was a dead ringer for Baron Arald.

* * *

_*sigh* I really don't know about this. I'm sorry that it's short. And I'm sorry if it's bad. And, now, who wants to go next? :P_


	10. On the Road by Ally4054

**On the Road**

by

Ally4054

* * *

**Well, really this just seems like a little filler with some meaning to it at the end...I was having a hard time thinking of something to add on, but here it is. :)**

_**

* * *

**_

_Halt was worried. Because, while he'd told the others that Caitlyn had described the man that had been in the tavern, he hadn't told them that the man she described was a dead ringer for Baron Arald._

Halt had been debating for the next few days whether on whether or not to tell the others about the man, but he finally decided he should hold on to the information for a while.

They had been in a rut for days; they hadn't found out anything more and they had no idea where to move on from there. Will had suggested asking around, but Halt had dismissed the idea, knowing that people would keep their lips sealed, and he wasn't sure if the any of the people they were searching for knew they were on their tail.

They had been traveling North for a few days, and again they had no idea where the man would be headed. Gilan and Will were contemplating it as they all sat around the fire of their camp on their third night of travel.

"This is hopeless," Bryn muttered as he took a seat next to the two men, "This is going to take forever to find him; we have no idea if he changed directions, or what town he might stop in, as a matter of fact we don't even know who his man is!"

"They don't teach patience where you live, do they?" Gilan happily replied in a sarcastic tone.

"I don't see why we should trail that man, I mean, yes, he killed the baron, but shouldn't we go after the Sheffield's?"

"We have no idea where the Sheffield's are," Will pointed out without looking up from the map, "Besides, if this man has something to do with the Sheffield's, which he most likely does, he'll be heading out to the ports to meet up with the rest of the slave traffickers."

Gilan and Horace, who had come to join them nodded in agreement, and Bryn gave in and looked at the map as well, trying to reason which city port would be most likely. Will looked up at his mentor and Caitlyn who sat quietly and listened to the younger men argue.

Halt's sister seemed to be perfectly in place, they had gotten her some clean clothes from a small town they had crossed paths with, and now she sat relaxed, her back leaning on a tree truck.

Will was a little concerned though, Halt had barely said anything within the last couple days, letting Gilan lead for the most part, and only commenting when provoked. He seemed to have something on his mind, and Will had the feeling that he hadn't told the group everything.

So he decided he would ask that night.

* * *

Meanwhile, there was a pair of unfriendly eyes watching them; he seemed to merge with the shadows and his feet didn't seem to make a sound. He had swooped in and after getting a good look at the group, he was gone. No one had ever noticed him and his gray cloaked swished behind him as he left.

* * *

**Yup, so now, we basically know that the guy is watching them. Isn't that great?

* * *

**

_Spook Note: __Yay! The story isn't dead. However, more authors are still needed. Volunteers anyone? Also, to any interested party, I started a forum about this story, creatively titled "Spookisapuppy's Campfire Story". It's under the RA forums. The author list is posted there now, since I was informed that having the author list at the beginning of this story was against the rules and if I didn't remove it the story would be taken down. Awesome. Anyway, great job **ally4054**. :P _**  
**


	11. Behind Dark Eyes by Rowanna Renee

**Behind Dark Eyes**

by

Rowana Renee

* * *

_Meanwhile, there was a pair of unfriendly eyes watching them; he seemed to merge with the shadows and his feet didn't seem to make a sound. He had swooped in and after getting a good look at the group, he was gone. No one had ever noticed him and his gray cloaked swished behind him as he left._

He didn't go far, only a few yards away, before he circled the small campsite. He came around to the other side, ducking silently behind a tree and peering out from behind it carefully. He dare not get closer for fear of discovery; he knew these rangers were uncanny when it came to sensing those around them. He'd been discovered once, and did not intend to be caught again.

He breathed a deep sigh, closing his eyes and lowering his head; he hadn't decided yet if he should attempt to kill these people or continue to follow them for a bit. It wasn't a hard choice to make, but his mind seemed determined to make it far more complicated than it had to be. He was young, looking to be about twenty-three years old, with dark grey eyes and even darker brown hair. His chin was covered in a small layer of stubble, as was the space right above his mouth, with two small tattoos beneath each eye that resembled tiger stripes.

These marked him as an assassin.

Another thing that marked him as an assassin was his name, or lack thereof. He'd had a name, once upon a time, he'd been called Allan Miltonson, but that had changed when he'd chosen his trade. Now he was simply the assassin. He needed no name, only a title by which to receive and follow orders. It had never been a problem; he'd always gotten jobs done swiftly and efficiently, name or no name. Even enjoyed his grizzly task.

And yet, here he was, unsure of whether to or to not take a life. He'd never had such problems before, and all of his previous hunts had ended with the desired head on a stake outside the home of whoever hired him. Not so this time. This time would be a challenge for the very reason that these rangers had skill greater than his own, instantly forcing them to be highly regarded in his eyes, and therefore harder to kill.

Damn his conscience; he'd give anything to be rid of it one day.

Quietly sliding down the tree, he eased into a sitting position on the ground; he'd wait this one out and see exactly how worthy these fellows were of his time.

* * *

Bryn fought back a sulk, settling back and watching the others curiously. He felt so awkward, surrounded by all these people who knew. He certainly hadn't forgotten what he'd done to Will, and knew for a fact that the forgiveness was only temporary. He'd most likely be sent packing again straight from the off the second this mission was over with. And already they were ignoring him as best they could, only speaking to him when they absolutely had to. But then, he supposed that he did deserve continuous retribution for even thinking of running with Alda and Jerome to start with. He'd been foolish, and this was the reward.

Giving a small huff of annoyance he shook his head, picking up a small stick and twirling it thoughtfully on the ground. Surely there was something he could do to prove that he really had changed sides now? After all, he hadn't done anything risky yet, it had to be fairly obvious that he had no intentions of doing so.

He felt someone watching him and looked up to find his eyes locked into the piercing gaze of Caitlyn, who was giving him a curious, almost sympathetic sort of look. He smiled softly and nodded in her direction, looking away quickly. He wondered how she felt, suddenly dragged into a mad adventure with three rangers, a warrior, and a scout who seemed utterly clueless. It must be strange, he mused, for her, knowing that one of those rangers was her own brother, who she hadn't even seen for so long it was amazing she even knew his face.

He was dragged from his thoughts as she spoke. "What happened between you and my brother, that the air is so heavy between you?"

Bryn gaped, eyes widening in shock. "You speak Araluen?" he gasped.

Caitlyn rolled her eyes, edging nearer and fixing him with a sarcastic smile. "And you see only what is thrown at your feet wrapped in paper and tied with a bow." she said gruffly, "It is a harsh language, your Araluen tongue, and I did not want to dirty my mouth with its use. But alas," she breathed, "You do not speak my language, so I must use yours."

Bryn frowned, tilting his head lightly and flashing her an offended look. "What's wrong with Araluen?"

The woman raised an eyebrow, bearing a resemblance to Halt that proved, if nothing else had, that she was indeed his kin. "It isn't befitting of a noble to lower oneself to the foreign speak of another. But I suppose I am noble no longer..." she mused, "Ach! Enough of my reasonings, tell me of yourself and my brother."

Now this was new...Caitlyn, a noble? But she was Halts' sister! And that would mean Halt himself was a noble of some sort. He wondered if it would be considered wrong to ask, but then also figured that he had no right to the knowledge. "Foolish childhood escapades," he replied slowly, "Things that all young rebels get up to, when there's no one to look down on and no easy choice but to follow...Two of my companions and I, we attacked his apprentice once. Not before taunting Horace over there for months, mind you. I never knew why exactly we did it, we just did. I thought they might treat me the same way if I didn't go along with them, so I copied their actions and it went too far on the day we went after Will, got the lot of us banished."

Caitlyn nodded slowly, closing her eyes and sighing. "But I suppose you've changed since then, lad?"

Bryn scoffed, eyes flashing in irritation. "Of course! I wasn't going to stay with them after that same choice caused me to be banished from the only home I'd ever known! No, I went along a different path entirely, and have a job that usually doesn't even require hurting anyone. But I don't think I can look forward to them believing me any time soon." he mumbled, "I don't think I'm even still needed here..."

Caitlyn offered a little smile in response, seeming to ponder something for a long moment. "If they still do not accept you, even though you've shown so far that you mean no harm, why do you linger here? Your task was to deliver a message, yes?" she glanced behind her, breath quickening ever so slightly, "Do you wish to remain?"

Bryn scowled, suddenly unsure. "I don't know...I want them to trust me, really trust me, but I'll never be allowed back in Redmont after breaking banishment, and I'm sure they don't have any use for me..."

Caitlyn nodded again, giving a small motion with her hands and shrugging a little. "See then? Why don't you simply go back to your wife and children? _Your _mission is complete, _theirs _is not. Technically, you are free."

Bryn squirmed awkwardly, shifting in one spot and looking around in agitation. Of course, Caitlyn was right. There really was no reason for him to stay here, since there was obviously no use for him, but then, something didn't feel right about leaving. There was another thing tugging at the back of his mind, but he didn't know what it was.

The woman next to him placed one hand on his knee, nodding encouragingly. "You truly do not wish to remain," she said soothingly, "And the others will not be persuaded of your innocence, you should go."

Bryns' mind was made up there and then, and he stood up quickly, looking down at her and nodding his thanks. "I can't just leave," he said, "I think I should speak to Halt first. If I apologize to him first hand, I may be able to convince him." with that he turned away, heading in the direction where he knew Halt would be keeping watch.

He didn't realize that there was someone hiding behind the tree that was in his way until the startled eyes of the watcher met his own.

* * *

Allan kept a watchful eye on the ranger standing watch a few yards away; there were a few trees in between the one he was hiding behind and the grim old ranger, meaning that he'd be able to remain hidden from view as long as he stayed silent and paid attention, something he had no intention of ceasing to do.

He turned his attention back to the others, noting that the youngest ranger, the slightly older one, and the warrior were off to one side, heads down and talking quietly, sometimes looking up or motioning rapidly, as if arguing. The youngest ranger seemed anxious to get away from the conversation, repeatedly backing away in attempt to head in the direction of the grim fellow who occupied half of the asassains' thoughts.

He gripped the dagger that hung at his waist, narrowing his eyes and pondering his situation. He could still get out of here easily, and he'd only be able to kill these people if he could get them on their own at some point or another. It was far too much to ask for him to kill them all at once, though he had every intention of leaving one of them in particular alive. But he could manage one or two at a time, if they were a reasonable distance away from the others.

There was only so much a little dagger could do.

He was rubbish with a bow, and he grimaced at the thought as he cautiously pulled the glove from his right hand, revealing the fact that the tips of the middle three fingers were missing, and likewise on the other, scars running across each joint and hindering the bending of each digit. But a dagger, he could use. All he had to do was get the best grip he could on it, sneak up on someone, and have at it.

Cursing softly as the dagger slipped from his hand, he bent to pick it up, looking back nervously to look at the oldest ranger and make sure the man wasn't coming closer. Breathing a sigh of relief, he cast his eyes down again, picking up the dagger and straightening once more. He could feel his heart pounding rapidly in his chest, and only had a moment to wonder why he felt so close to danger all of a sudden before he met the surprised gaze of one of the people he'd been watching.

Stumbling back, he did the only thing he could think of, he threw the dagger, not waiting to see if it had met its mark or not before turning and running away from the campsite.

The dagger had made contact, burying itself in the leg of the person who'd come upon him so unexpectedly, just above the knee, drawing a cry of pain that had all eyes instantly riveted on the spot he'd been standing a moment before.

For Bryn, the world spun dizzyingly as stars danced before his vision, all but blinding him as he stumbled forward in attempt to chase his attacker, possibly catch him before he could escape. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he could see the grey cloak; this might be the same man Caitlyn had described. But as his knees gave out from underneath him, another thought struck.

Caitlyn had wanted him to leave, to go back to his family, when he'd said nothing to her about being married or having any children.

How could she have known that?

He was jolted from the shocked pondering by a voice above him, the tone of which he couldn't make out.

"Bryn," it said, something between anger and concern lacing the single note, "What were you-"

* * *

**MUAHAHAHHAHAAA! AND that's a wrap for my chapter! Sorry if it's too long or too short or whatever...or if you're cross that it was mostly Bryn and Allan. Also, YES, the name Allan is a shout out to Allan a Dale from Robin Hood. Anyway, OH GOSH WHAT DID I JUST DO? Lol, good luck to the next author and I can't wait to see where you take it from here! ^;^**


	12. Second Foe by IsebellaLynnette

**Second Foe**

by

IsebellaLynnette

* * *

"Bryn," [the voice] said, something between anger and concern lacing the single note, "What were you-"

_

* * *

_

Will stopped as he followed Bryn's line of sight and swore softly as he made out the flash of gray through the trees. Automatically, his hands reached for his longbow and quiver of arrows, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Let him think we didn't notice him," Halt said quietly.

Will shrugged slightly, turned away from the woods, and leaned over to help Bryn to his feet.

"Horace, let's have that first-aid kit now, if you please!"

The tall knight quickly obliged, walking over the little clearing where they'd camped, whistling softly as he saw the bloody, mangled mess of Bryn's thigh. "Good grief."

Bryn grimaced at first as Will applied the painkilling salve and deftly bandaged the wound around the dagger, then slumped back against the tree stump he was resting against and sighed.

"I'm going to leave the dagger in for now," Will said quietly, gesturing to the wound. "Heaven knows what might happen if we take it out right now. When you're more rested and the wound has healed some, I'll take it out. But if we try to do it right now, it'll do much more harm than good. Understand?"

His gaze locked with Bryn's, and the former Battleschool apprentice nodded quickly, then wished he hadn't as it caused a wave of nausea to roll over him.

Caitlyn laid a hand on Bryn's uninjured leg and looked deep into his eyes, then said, "Rest now. We'll stay here for a while longer."

Bryn nodded slowly, and then leaned back against the tree stump and quickly fell asleep.

_The salve did its work well,_ Will mused to himself.

Meanwhile, Caitlyn hurried to one of the low one-man tents pitched at the campsite and returned with a thick blanket which she gently placed around him, and then turned back to the others.

"Now we can talk."

* * *

"Halt, I'm not entirely sure that he should be in our group any longer," Gilan said, gazing directly into his former mentor's eyes. "He's only been a burden so far, especially now that that gray-cloaked person that was spying on us attacked him with that dagger."

Halt nodded, stroking his beard. "It's a fair point, Gilan, but..."

"I think we should give him a chance," Horace said quietly. Instantly, eight other eyes turned to him, and the tall warrior blushed inadverdently. Despite all his politcal experiences, he still found it embarrassing and a bit unnerving to suddenly have the spotlight on him.

"How so?" Will asked. "With that injury, he's not going to be much of a help."

Horace hesitated. He hadn't thought that far ahead. Then a thought came to mind, and he said, "What do you all honestly think of him? D'you still believe he's that bully-follower like the old days? I, for one, know that he's changed. He's come this far with us, though we've barely regarded him at all. He's certainly tried to fit in. Haven't you noticed how quiet he's been lately? It's because every single time he speaks, someone contradicts him." The tall knight's piercing blue gaze swept around the circle as he spoke. "Can you imagine how humiliating that must be for him? How unwanted that makes him feel?"

"Before he was attacked by that gray-cloaked man," Caitlyn replied softly in Araluen, surprising the others, "he told me that he was considering leaving the group."

"You see?" Gilan quickly glanced up at Halt. "Even the banished apprentice himself knows that he doesn't belong."

"Wait just a minute, Gilan," Will said slowly. "Don't you find that the very fact that he wants to leave the group only makes us want to keep him as a part of us?"

"You know, politics are funny that way," Halt replied. "Remember Erak?"

Grins appeared on the faces of the younger men, and when Caitlyn shot her brother a questioning glance, he sent her a look that said, _I'll explain later_.

"How could we forget? Ah, we were so convinced-and so was he-that he had a next-to-zero chance of winning the election, but...there's government for you," Horace said, shrugging.

Gilan smiled ruefully. "I guess you're right. We'll keep him with us, then, at least for a little while longer."

Halt nodded. "Then I don't think there's anything else we need to discuss. Now shoo," he said, waving Gilan, Will, and Horace away as he turned to his sister to explain about their adventures across the sea in Skandia.

Will and Horace exchanged a glance as they saw Gilan retreating into his tent, then looked at the peacefully resting Bryn, then back at each other.

"Right! Who wants some coffee?" Gilan cried, coming back out of his tent with a coffeepot and the dark brown mixture. Without waiting for an answer, he walked over to the fire pit they'd used the night before and dumped the supplies there before turning towards the woods and calling out over his shoulder, "I'll go gather some firewood!"

Will and Horace made no move to get up and help him. Instead, the Ranger's apprentice leaned in closer to his best friend and said quietly, "What d'you think's gotten into him lately?"

Horace frowned. "I'm not sure. Now it _seems_ that he's back to normal, but-"

"Back to normal? Oh please. Gilan will never be normal."

The two younger men whirled around to see Halt standing there, one eyebrow raised at them in that ever-familiar gesture. Will grinned ruefully and sighed.

"I'll never be able to hear you coming, will I, Halt?"

"Never," his mentor replied, emphatically shaking his head, though the corners of his mouth were slightly uplifted. Then the faint hint of a smile disappeared altogether, and his dark brown eyes took on that familiar all-business look as he said, "Now what's all this about Gilan being 'back to normal'?"

Horace hesitated, glancing quickly at Will to see if they should tell his mentor about their worries or not. But to his surprise, the Ranger apprentice slowly shook his head and stared fixedly at a spot away from the camp, towards the area where Gilan had gone to fetch firewood.

Speak of the devil; there he was now, grinning despite his heavy load.

"Now what happened to you three lazy-bones? I was expecting some help out there, you know!"

Will shrugged, staring at the fire pit and remaining silent. Horace coughed lightly, while Halt looked up and raised an eyebrow at his lanky former apprentice.

Gilan frowned and shot a quizzical glance at Halt, who merely shrugged and pointed to the fire pit.

"It'd be nice to have a warm blaze up and going," he said, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had settled over the campsite.

Gilan nodded and hurried to the fire pit, tripping in the process, thereby sending the whole pile of firewood tumbling out of his hands and onto the ground, rolling all over the campsite.

Will snorted. "Great job."

But the air of heaviness and awkwardness had successfully disappeared from the campsite, and Will, Horace, and Halt jumped to their feet to help Gilan gather up all the firewood again. Once they had found all the logs, they got a blazing fire roaring in the fire pit, and Halt began brewing his specialty stew. Soon the air was filled with the appetizing aroma of the beef soup.

Bryn suddenly jerked awake.

"That smells good," he said stupidly.

"Ah, you're awake," Will said, hurrying over to where Bryn was sitting and bringing him a bowl filled with hot soup. "Eat up, now-it'll bring back some of your strength."

Quickly, Bryn obliged, slurping up the delicious stew perhaps a little too quickly, as his tongue felt as if it was on fire. But the mouth-watering scents and lingering taste more than made up for the pain, Bryn thought, gratefully nodding as Will handed his bowl back to him, filled with another serving of soup.

Soon the entire campsite was filled with the enthusiastic sounds of slurping, smacking lips, and contented sighs.

But despite the warm feeling residing in Will's heart, he hadn't forgotten how Halt had been acting the past few days. So, as everyone settled into a calm, content silence, he turned to Halt and looked him square in the eye.

"Halt, what have you been keeping from us?"

Instantly, everyone's eyes turned to the two Rangers, master and apprentice, staring fixedly at each other.

"What was that, Will?" Halt asked, cocking his head to one side, pretending he hadn't heard his apprentice.

Will frowned, seeing right through his mentor's actions. "You know what I said, Halt."

Halt sighed and spread his hands palm outward in an equally frustrated, equally defensive gesture. "What do you mean? What could I possibly have kept from you all?"

Will raised his eyebrow, a long-familiar expression that he had learned quickly from Halt. "About anything, really," he replied heavily.

Horace frowned and decided to join the conversation. "What's going on here? Halt's been keeping a secret from the rest of us?"

"That isn't exactly something new," Gilan said, shrugging as he absently chewed on some dried beef jerky. "I should know. I was his apprentice for five years, after all."

"Shouldn't we be focusing more on what we should do next rather than discussing who's keeping secrets from who?" Bryn said quietly. "After all, we can't stay here as sitting ducks just because of my injury. We're going to have to move on sooner or later, injured or not. And we need to do it soon, because there's more where that gray-cloaked man came from," he continued, jerking a thumb back towards the trees the assassin had spied on them from.

There was a moment of contemplative silence around the fire.

Then Will nodded. "You're right, Bryn." The Ranger apprentice turned to his mentor and said, "Sorry about that, Halt."

Halt nodded back. "It's fine."

But as they met each other's eyes, they knew the matter was far from over. Bryn had been right, though-they needed a plan to keep the enemy from learning more about them, especially after that assassin had come and spied on them for a while without their noticing it. So, for the moment, this conflict would be pushed out of the way to let the more important problem take the spotlight. Once that was dealt with, though...

"All right. So first of all, we're going to have to set up an effective guard system so that no other unfriendly eyes will be able to watch us," Halt said, leaning in closer towards the fire. In the flickering light, his eyes appeared downright cruel, even murderous.

Suddenly, Will jumped to his feet and tackled his mentor, yelling, "Get out of the way!"

Halt heard a wicked hiss as something whizzed mere inches from his face pressed into the ground, heart pounding in his chest. Then his breath caught and he turned awkwardly onto his side, burdened by his apprentice's weight.

"Will...?"


	13. Old Aquantinces by shoeychocolatXD

**Old Acquaintances**

by

shoeychocolatXD

* * *

_Halt heard a wicked hiss as something whizzed mere inches from his face pressed into the ground, heart pounding in his chest. Then his breath caught and he turned awkwardly onto his side, burdened by his apprentice's weight.  
"Will...?"_

* * *

" Will...Get off me." Halt only had time to push off his apprentice and to look up to see to face of the man whose arrow was seconds from embedding itself in his backside. The all too familiar face of Richard Thatcher glared back at him through the thick foliage of the trees that lined the campsite.

The assassin was astounded at his own almost lucky shot. He was good with the bow but not great, not as good as he should have been. He still managed to almost kill one of Araluen's most feared and respected rangers. His triumph was short lived, however. He found the man he had almost hit getting up and coming quickly for him. He couldn't run but he could fight. If he killed this ranger, the others, all of them, would surrender to him.

This new assassin was not perturbed by the younger assassin's flight. He in fact was the man who hired the younger one to spy on them. When he heard of an elder ranger with shaggy hair that had come to investigate Lord Byron's death, he knew it could only be Halt.

* * *

Although Halt's reaction was quick, he was still slightly reeling from the blow he had received from his apprentice and by the sight of a man he had hoped to never see again. He quickly drew his Saxe knife and pointed it at the other man's throat.

Halt was usually a quick man but with his reflexes slowed by half a millisecond he could not dispatch the man who had just tried to kill him. The assassin had his knife drawn as well. It was pointed to the older man's head.

"Why are you here, you know that I said if I ever saw you again I would kill you." Halt prodded the man verbally. A look of hatred in his eyes, Halt said, "And I meant every word I said."

"Come now Halt, that was twenty years ago, cant you leave the past to the past, let's start anew." He gave a short bark of what was presumed to be laughter. "You can't honestly think that, after all of these years, I would expect you to remember such a silly little threat given in the heat of anger?"

"You should know that I never give empty threats; you of all people should know." Halt's eyes were blazing. Their eyes stayed locked in a strict battle of wills, the assassin's ice blue eyes never strayed from Halt's brown ones.

"Oh, Halt, Halt, Halt," the assassin shook his head in mock disappointment, "You  
can never let the little things go, can you?"

The two men circled each other like bulldogs readying themselves for a battle, the snarl on each face brought out the hatred that was etched so clearly across each man's body language.

"I truly find it hard to forgive any sorts of betrayal, much less what you did to me, and to her." Halt's eyes flashed again, he was dead set on his target, there was no time for playing around; this was all serious, at least to Halt.

The trees cast small shadows across the face and body of Halt and the assassin. In the span of a few seconds it all became quiet. It felt like ages in the mind of each of the people there.

* * *

"Wait a minute Halt, you know this man?" Will's stunned silence turned to a question and a look of disbelief; it had taken him a while to grasp the meaning of his mentor's words. He looked at the assassin more closely. He was tall, about 6'4", and he towered over Halt. His hair was a thick mahogany color tinged with grey by the temples. The eyes of this man where a cold ice blue, Will found himself shrinking away from him.

Both of the sparring men ignored Will. They had eyes for only each other.

"It's been a long time Halt. Too long in fact, I would like to know, how is our Lady Pauline, she was so beautiful the last time I saw her, that would be about twenty years ago wouldn't it? I was wondering if she would still love to hear from me. She was so distraught when she was telling me not to go." The  
assassin prodded at Halt with an iron will. He could see the anger flooding his old comrade's face.

"Halt," Will again trying to get his mentors attention now stood at the ready with his saxe knife glued to his hand "Who is this man, how do you know each other?"

"I am not going to kill you Halt, at least not now, this isn't about you. I came for the boy, I know who's son he is and, he is vital to stopping the kidnapping ring that has been terrorizing the countryside." The assassin relaxed his stance and looked straight at Halt, all prodding aside. "He is the last remaining heir to the Sheffield bloodline and I intend to use him as bait to draw the Sheffields and their buyers out."

"But you wouldn't have known who he was if you hadn't seen me." Halt continued to stare at him with hatred and disbelief.

"Come on Halt, I was there when the boy was born, I knew who his mother was. I hadn't planned on this but when I heard of you and a young boy together defeating Morgarath. I came to found out you hadn't let the boy out of your life as easily as you thought you could." The assassin gave a slight chuckle and a  
nod.

Will finally spoke up and grabbed the attention of the two men. "I don't know who you are but if you don't explain to me, in detail, what you specifically have planned for me, I swear I won't go along with any of it."

Halt looked on in disbelief, he swore to protect Will in any way possible but to hear that Will might actually go along with this monster's plan was too much for him to handle.

Halt turned to will with an expression that could bust a boulder in two; he opened his mouth to say what he was feeling, a strong resounding NO when Will said...

* * *

_And to hand it off to another, I bestow my own addition to this story on to you. :)_

_~shoeychocolatXD of the noble XD line and heir to the throne of the kingdom of chocolate._

_Hehe, medieval titles :) :)_

_Oh yeah, we needed an epic fight scene and I thought one like this would really get a kick in the behind of our little story cobbled together by us authors.

* * *

**Spook Note: Who wants the next chapter? It's open! And don't forget to go check out the forum! That's where the author list is now posted. **_


	14. Startling Revelations by Phinneas M

**Chapter 14 has finally arrived! Yay! I feel so honored that I was able to write one. Thank you for putting up the story, Spookisapuppy! I also heard rumors that pixie blue is writing the next chapter. I hope I didn't demolish the plot line too much for your ideas—I know that I beat it up pretty badly. Hehe, there's a big(ish) cliffie at the end. **

**Enjoy!**

**Oh, and I also sort of stole a variation of pixie blue's page breaks. Sorry!**

.:*:. .:*:. .:*:.

_Halt turned to Will with an expression that could bust a boulder in two; he opened his mouth to say what he was feeling, a strong resounding NO when Will said..._

**Chapter Fourteen:**

"**Startling Revelations"**

**By Phinneas McCheeser**

.:*:. .:*:. .:*:.

…When Will said, "And that's only if you can take me. Which I highly doubt you can." Gilan had, by this point, risen and joined the strange group, ready to lend a hand in the fighting if need be. He drew his sword threateningly. The man had to admit that, between Halt and Gilan, and the apprentice knight that was standing guard over Bryn, the boy did look rather well-protected.

The man—better known as Richard Thatcher—laughed cruelly. The sound sent shivers running up Will's spine. "Take you?" he said incredulously, as if the idea was absurd. "Why on earth would we _need_ to take you?" Halt noticed the way he said 'we' not 'I' and felt a worm of doubt in the back of his mind.

"Well, what did you expect—for me to just come peacefully?" Will said. He snorted and rolled his eyes. Halt had to admit that he found the idea ridiculous as well.

"As a matter of fact, that was something like what we expected," the man said mildly. Will's eyes widened.

"Why on in the world would I ever want to hang around scum like you?" he spat. The man chuckled.

"Well, Halt, I can see that you have not done a very good job with this one. Have you never explained his lineage?"

"He's told me enough," Will interrupted hotly. "Enough to know that you're people I would never want to associate with in my life." He glared at the man defiantly.

The man inclined his head thoughtfully. "That is what you _think, _not what you _know_. You see, William, you do not realize what you have missed these nineteen years." He spoke with an upper-class sort of accent, and his lack of contractions pointed to an arrogant man who thought himself above the use of them, Halt thought keenly. They were the same things he had noticed upon meeting the man nineteen years ago, though Halt personally thought that they stuck out even more now.

"My name's Will," Will began, but Thatcher ignored him.

"Your name is William, and you are the only remaining heir to the Sheffield family," he said. "One of the most influential families in Araluen. You have almost unlimited political power. Come with us, we will show you!" The man had a strange, power-hungry look in his eyes, and Halt suspected that Will's 'political power' would be of extreme use to the man.

"Politics have never really been my thing," Will said, glaring at him.

"They will be," Thatcher continued. "Oh yes, they will be." There was now a manic glint in his eyes that made Will want to back away.

"You may as well drop the idea, because I'm not coming with you!" Will exclaimed.

"You will be coming with us whether you like it or not, nephew!" Thatcher said.

There was a sudden thudding sound, and Thatcher got a strange look in his eyes. Then he slumped over, hitting the ground hard. His body was clearly silhouetted in the firelight, so that it was easy to see the knife protruding from his back.

Gilan's knife.

"I thought he was getting a little too close for comfort," Gilan said, seemingly materializing out of the shadows. Bryn, who had been watching the whole spectacle frozen in place, started. Gilan was breathing hard, looking as though he had just run a long race. Will was looking—scared? Confused? Frightened? Probably a mix of the three, Halt decided, as he watched Will looking from Gilan to himself to Thatcher's dead body with a slightly overwhelmed look on his face.

Halt nodded his approval to Gilan. Will took a deep breath.

"Halt—" he said, and Halt held up a hand to stem the flow of questions before they began.

"Tomorrow," he said firmly. "We've had enough excitement for today."

"Halt—" Will tried again, this time more urgently.

"No buts," his teacher replied.

"He called me 'nephew,' Halt!" Will exclaimed loudly. Halt looked at him, looked deep into his eyes, and he didn't see the eyes of his nineteen-year-old apprentice. He saw the eyes of a haunted young slave, beaten and starved in the mountains of Skandia. The eyes of a frightened boy dealing with the aftereffects of a vicious attack by lethal assassins. They were wide open and frightened, alone and afraid-looking. They had never failed to bring out the fatherly side in Halt, because they never failed to let him know that he was needed. And the hardest thing he'd ever had to do in life was ignore that need.

"I know," he said tiredly. "I know."

There was nothing he could do that night.

.:*:. .:*:. .:*:.

"Alright, _now_ you can ask your questions," Halt said slowly, his eyes fixed on his apprentice. It was the next morning, and the mismatched group was sitting around a fire, sipping coffee and listening intently to what Will was going to ask.

"He called me nephew," Will said immediately. "Why?"

Halt sighed and leaned back against a tree trunk. "Because you are—or rather were—his nephew. He was your mother's brother."

"The one you tried to take me to?" Will asked. Halt nodded. "But—he called me William—he" He broke off, unsure of what he was attempting to say.

"He did indeed. He knows that William is your given name, and the only person that could have told him that was your mother."

"But she didn't know him well!" Will said insistently. "You said so yourself."

Halt sighed. Honestly, he wasn't sure of what he knew and what he didn't anymore. Not that he could ever say so, of course. "I thought so. But I must have been wrong. Your mother was cut off as she was speaking to me. She might have been trying to say William."

"But," Will persisted, "If she had spoken to my uncle, then surely she wouldn't have wanted me raised by him!"

"They must not have talked for long," Halt said evenly, hoping that the boy stopped soon. For his own good, Halt didn't want to speak of the evidence that he had been collecting.

"Right," Will said in a tone that clearly implied that he didn't buy his mentor's patch explanation. "Now, one last question." Gilan and Horace reflexively leaned forwards in anticipation; Bryn moved as much as he was able. "Thatcher said that he wanted me to _stop_ the trade gang. But if what he said during the attack was true, then he was a _part_ of it. What's up with that?"

Gilan nodded agreement. "To be completely honest, I'm a bit curious about that myself."

"Well," Halt began carefully, "I think that, when we were circling, he was attempting to throw me off the track—to make me think something that was the opposite of all the evidence I'd collected. He wanted me to doubt myself—and distract myself in the process."

"What evidence?" Horace asked. "You've barely left our sight in weeks!"

"Unless it was before that," Gilan said slowly, looking up at Halt. "Unless he's done it before he officially set out on this mission."

"Just how long have you been working against this gang, Halt?" Will asked, staring Halt right in the eyes.

Halt looked down in defeat. "I've been on their trail for years," he said slowly. "Since before Will became my apprentice, as a matter of fact. And there's a very good reason for that: I already had an idea that I would take you as my apprentice in the future." This was directed at Will, who nodded his understanding. "And I didn't want you around when I was doing most of the dirty work. After all, you were my primary piece of evidence." Will started.

"I'm _what_?"

"My biggest piece of evidence against them—the Sheffields. Let me back up.

"As you all know, Will's father saved my life in battle—or at least, I thought he did. After the battle, I attempted to trace Daniel's family. I didn't become aware that I had found the wrong family until later, of course—several years later. My false trail led me to the house of a young woman named Veronica Sheffield, who was very near her birthing time."

"My mother," Will said. Halt nodded.

"Yes. Your mother. Now, she eventually gave birth to you and realized that she was dying. She held you in her arms until she passed. Will, I want you to know that whatever turns out to be true or untrue about your mother, she loved you dearly."

Will nodded once. He looked Halt in the eye, and saw that his mentor meant every word. He felt a warm glow of pleasure growing inside of him. Here at last was the information he had wanted for years—his past, his family—even if none of it was turning out to have been exactly normal. Still, for an orphan, it was enough to know that he was—or rather, had been—loved. He shook the thought off. Halt loved him, he knew, like a son. And he loved Halt like a father. But there was always something to be said for knowing things about your real family as well.

"Veronica looked me in the eye, and said, very distinctly, 'His name is Will. Please, take him to my brother. He will raise him properly.' And then she passed away." Halt frowned. "This is where things start to get complicated.

"I took you to her brother, Richard Thatcher. I was at once struck by his arrogance and cruelty, and immediately decided that that home was no place for a child. But your mother had insisted upon your being raised by him, so I took a chance and told him."

Halt took a deep breath and let loose a short laugh. "I must admit, Will, that I wasn't completely honest with you earlier. Thatcher did not tell me to place you in the Ward or to throw you in a ditch. When I told him that his sister Veronica had given birth, he looked at me strangely and said, 'Veronica who?' "

"He forgot his own sister?" Horace said incredulously. Halt shrugged.

"It certainly seemed that way. Until—" he stopped, alarm bells ringing in his mind. "No, that'll keep. Anyways, I told him your mother's comment about you being 'raised properly' by him. And then he got a strange look in his eyes—"

"Power hungry," Will finished for him, remembering Thatcher's frighteningly egomaniacal expression the night before. "Greedy." Halt nodded.

"Exactly. And then, all of a sudden, he started showing a great deal of interest in you."

"So what did you do?" Bryn asked curiously.

"I did the only thing I could," Halt said truthfully. "I ran, taking Will with me. There was no way that man was fit to raise a child." He frowned and hesitated, unsure as to whether or not to continue his tale. This was where his facts ended and his reasoning began.

"What happened next?" Horace asked, completely engrossed in the tale. Halt shrugged.

"I took Will to the Ward. After that, the rest is history." He paused. "This is where the story ends and my conclusions start."

"Go on," Will said slowly.

"Well," Halt began deliberately. "I've been over this a thousand times in my head—more so over the past two or three years, when the gang's activity has become even more pronounced. I've gathered evidence from multiple sources—former captives, victims, members even. And it all points in the same direction." Halt took a deep breath. This was the moment where years upon years of stalling finally went to waste as he spilled the last of his secrets. He bit his lip.

"Will's mother wasn't the detached Sheffield family member she fooled us into thinking she was. She was a powerful and influential member of the gang."

Will paled as Halt's words hit him like a ton of bricks. Halt reached out a hand and placed it gently over Will's. "I'm sorry," he said. He couldn't imagine how it must have felt to feel that one small connection with your family, then to have it torn away from you—all in less than five minutes. He could sense Caitlyn watching them from the shadows, but ignored her. She could be informed of recent events later.

"What evidence?" Gilan asked softly after a moment's pause.

"I did a bit of poking around after I left Will in the Ward. After mulling the situation over, I became slightly suspicious of your mother, Will. I decided to go back to her village and ask around. Here's what I found." He sighed. "Veronica Sheffield was married to an unnamed man—apparently they weren't very well-known in their town. After about three months of their living in the village, the husband mysteriously disappeared. Veronica testified that he had not returned from a hunting trip, but they never found a body." He paused to let the words sink in.

"You mean," Horace began, absolutely horrified, "You mean to say that you think she _murdered_ him?"

Halt stroked his beard. "I think it's a distinct possibility. No, never mind—it's the most distinct possibility. There's no real proof, of course—she was a very clean operator, if she did in fact do it. But it looks like that's what happened."

Will took in a deep breath. "One last question," he said. Gilan looked at him sympathetically. Having grown up in a normal, loving family, he couldn't imagine how it must have felt to find this out about your parents.

Halt nodded for Will to go on. "Well," he said, "Why did Thatcher pretend at first that he didn't know my mother?"

Halt frowned thoughtfully. This was, in truth, the question that had bothered him most throughout the years. He had only found a possible answer several years ago—the only possible answer, if he was honest with himself.

"When you belong to a gang like this one," he said carefully, "Obviously they work incredibly hard to stay virtually undetected and not get caught." His companions nodded their understanding. "In a gang like this, anything you could do to jeopardize that safety… Well, it's just not permissible. "

"Getting married would definitely jeopardize that safety," Gilan said slowly. Halt nodded.

"Exactly. You would have to tell your spouse about why you keep disappearing and coming home at all hours of the day and night. And I think that, upon getting married, Veronica Sheffield was probably disowned from her family—and the gang."

"Ah," Gilan said. "I see. And as soon as Veronica told her husband of her former—_recreational_ activities, he threatened to turn her in."

"And she killed him," Bryn said hoarsely. His eyes were wide. "Unknowingly leaving herself pregnant." He found himself comparing situations with Veronica Sheffield's mysterious husband and found their situations to be frighteningly similar—but in his case, he had been the wrongdoer. Bryn shook himself. Rosie would never to that to him. His wife's kind face sprang into his head, laughing, brushing long red curls out of her face as she worked. He shuddered again.

There was an awkward silence. Everyone was determinedly not looking at Will, who was in turn determinedly staring at the ground. Halt was the one to break it.

"We might as well get moving," he said brusquely. "Pack up."

.:*:. .:*:. .:*:.

They were on the road for the whole day before they found the village.

It wasn't much—just a small group of homes clustered around a central large campfire pit, with a small area of farmland off to one side. The village was completely deserted, and looked as if it had been for some months. But it was a place to sleep, a place that would shelter the weary group of travelers from the wind for the night. And it was almost nighttime, Will realized with a start. He had barely noticed the hours as they passed them by.

Halt, for his part, had been extremely gentle with Will that day. Normally, he would have delivered dozens of scathing remarks about his apprentice's lack of attentiveness—but today, he felt that such comments were unnecessary. Will had just found out that his mother was a member of an illegal trade gang—literally the scum of the earth, in Halt's opinion. He assumed that the feeling was something akin to what he had felt upon discovering his brother's treachery. It was like he'd been punched in the stomach, he reflected. That was certainly what Will looked like, in any case.

"We might as well stop here," he said at length, gesturing to the abandoned village with one hand. Gilan nodded. He saw Will start out of his reverie, then glance at him with a sheepish look in his eyes.

They headed over to the roughly-built houses. They were all tired, Halt knew, and eager to get to sleep. While Gilan and Horace were setting up camp and talking quietly with Caitlyn and Bryn, Halt surreptitiously pulled Will aside.

"Halt?" Will asked curiously. "Is everything alright?"

Halt hurried to reassure his apprentice that everything was in fact alright. "Yes, it's fine. But I'm a bit concerned about you. You've been acting strange all day."

Will sighed and stared out the window reflectively. "Yes, well, it's a lot to take in. I mean, I just found out that my mother killed my dad. It's not your typical family situation." Halt nodded, and was once again put in mind of his own younger self, in a country just across the sea…

He laid a firm hand on Will's shoulder. "If you ever need me, I'm here." Will looked up, and gazed into his mentor's eyes. He nodded.

"Thanks, Halt." Then, despite his best attempts otherwise, a gigantic yawn escaped him. Halt raised an eyebrow.

"Now go to bed before you collapse from exhaustion," he said, gently pushing Will off towards the rest of the group. Halt felt a yawn of his own coming on and frowned slightly. He moved over to Gilan.

"Will you organize some sort of watch roster?" he asked. His old apprentice nodded.

"Yeah, it shouldn't be too difficult." He paused. "About Will—"

"He's fine," Halt said, cutting him off. "Just tired—and a little shocked." Gilan nodded absentmindedly.

"Yes. Poor kid…"

Halt mentally snorted. Poor kid indeed. Fighting off another yawn, he made his way over to his bedroll, which he had set up earlier in the evening. He fell asleep as soon as he hit the ground.

.:*:. .:*:. .:*:.

Someone gently shook Halt awake. He opened his eyes, instinctively knowing that it was earlier than he normally woke up. And someone would only do that if something was wrong.

"Halt," a voice whispered. Horace.

"What?" he asked, matching the apprentice's low tone. Horace glanced around the campsite as though he were looking for something, then turned back to Halt. "Will—he's missing."

"What?"

Halt felt sick, but he sat up dutifully swept his gaze around their small camp as his worst fears were realized. "Halt?" he heard Horace ask concernedly. He didn't answer. He shook his head in disbelief.

Will was gone. And there was only one group of people who could possibly want him.

* * *

_Spookisapuppy: If anyone is interested in writing the next chapter of this story, contact me either in a PM or on the RA forums. The author list is posted there under "Spookisapuppy's Campfire Story" and it's open for discussion as well. Good job Phinneas!_


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